


The Beautiful & The Damned

by hxllosweetie (glassandroses), secondsineternity (glassandroses)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Arranged Marriage, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Beauty and the beast retelling, Brock Rumlow as Gaston (Beauty and the Beast), Domestic Violence, F/M, James “Bucky” Barnes as Beast (Beauty and the Beast), Kidnapping, Minor Brock Rumlow/Reader, Reader as Beauty (Beauty and the Beast)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassandroses/pseuds/hxllosweetie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassandroses/pseuds/secondsineternity
Summary: As a young girl, your mother would tell you stories. Tales of a beast and his long-forgotten castle. The stories terrified you as a child, but you had since blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Now, as the fiancé to the cruel and abusive crown prince of the Enchanted Forest, you realize that it hadn’t been just some old folktale- it had been your destiny.This is basically a retelling of the Beauty and the Beast / Rumplestiltskin arc from Once Upon a Time with Marvel Cinematic Universe characters.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. The Nightmare (Prologue)

_“Once upon a time, there was a young prince who lived in a castle on a steep hill. He was the son of a king who loved his people, and a mother who treated her people like friends._

_“When his mother died, his father had gone into insanity. He would hurt his son, making him afraid and distant. He would drink, drink, drink, everyday until it killed him. It left the young prince as the only heir to the kingdom._

_“But this young prince was greedy and vain. He raised the taxes and turned the village into ruin. He threw parties for the rich and beautiful, and never gave a second thought to the people living below him._

_“At the one hundredth party, a evil witch attended disguised as a beautiful young maiden. When the prince approached her, she cast a spell on him, making him into a beast of unknown wildness. She left him with a small note, although, a way to undo the curse that had been placed upon him: a young girl must fall in love with him._

_“The attendants fled the castle, while the staff stayed behind, clueless and unwittingly under the same curse. That was the last day a stranger stepped foot into the castle. The prince fell into despair and lost all hope... for who could ever love a beast?”_

At least, that's what your mother's tale told.

As a child, you were fascinated by the stories of princes and monsters, but now as an adult, you know how real they are- how terrifying they are.

_Growls and snarls. Clawed nails and sharp horns. Fanged teeth and evil smiles. A large, hairy beast towering over you and licking his chops, as if it’s preparing to devour you..._

You woke from your nightmare, panting and sweaty. You sat up straight, apprehensively looking around your room for unexpected shadows.

You had that nightmare before, many times. The beast from your mothers story, come to haunt you in your rest, why? You hadn’t ever seen the beast, yet you knew. Like claircognisance, you felt like you had seen this beast before, maybe even knew him-

You shook away those thoughts. Looking to your window, you realized that the sun had already began to rise. You had more important matters to ponder about- today was the day the crown prince would be choosing his betrothed from the villages surrounding the palace. Many ladies of the court had gossiped that he had his eyes set on you... the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

Not thinking of the nightmare or the coming event a moment longer, you got up to feed the chickens, collect eggs and make breakfast for you and your father.


	2. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! 💓

It should have been an honor to marry a prince, the crown prince at that, but to you... it felt like a death sentence.

Crown Prince Brock Rumlow was an asshole. Everyone who lived in the kingdom and the surrounding villages knew that the arrogant and cruel royal was not to be messed with, but you... you got on his nerves quite easily. Pushed him to see how far he would go.

Today was not your day, apparently.

“I thought I told you to mind your place and stay quiet like a proper wife.” Brock grumbled as he rode atop his horse with you at his back, barely able to hang on. You had requested your own horse when you had stopped by the stables with Brock, but to save his own pride he had objected, claiming that he could ‘take care of his fiancée’.

“I am not your wife, Brock.”

He chuckled, deep and desolately. “Not yet, but you will be.” He turned to look at you, his smile dark. “You will be my wife, and I will do whatever I want with you. Absolutely anything I want.”

You were silent throughout the rest of the ride through the Enchanted Forest. Brock had scared you before, but never like this. Never enough to silence you.

The realization that you belonged to him as soon as you were married, like an object, had never dawned on you until now. As soon as you said your vows before the entire kingdom, you wouldn’t be under your father’s protection anymore. He could use you however he wanted with no repercussion, beat you, use you as his whore... The thought nearly filled your mouth with bile.

If you could survive long enough for him to get to his hunting grounds, be around his so called friends long enough for him to be distracted, you could make a run for it. Run along back home to your father where it’s safe and sound. It sounded almost too good to be true.

A rustling in the trees made your body go stiff, your eyes searching through the forest for the source of the sound. Then you heard it again, but this time... it came from above.

You faced the back of your fiancé. “Brock, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He asked without turning to face you.

“The sound, the rustling in the trees.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s just the wind.”

“But it isn’t windy.” You said, hopping down from the horse while still in motion, “How can it be the wind if it isn’t even windy?”

Brock brought the horse to a stop, turning to glare at you with fiery eyes. “Get back on the horse.”

“No.”

His nostrils flared, hopping off the horse himself and moved towards you, stopping only when you were inches apart. “Get. On. The. Horse.”

You glared at him with the same amount of fire and will. You had enough. “No. I will not go anywhere with you.”

Brock screamed out in anger, raising a swift hand to slap you. You flinched, closing your eyes to prepare for the pain you always felt when you pushed him too far.

But it never came.

You opened your eyes slowly, looking in the same direction Brock was. A woman, eyes as green as emeralds and hair as red as blood stood before you, holding a dagger towards your fiancé. “Move away from her.”

Brock scoffed. “Excuse me?”

The woman kept herself void of emotion. “You’re excused. Now step aside.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to, girl?” He growled, slowly approaching the woman with no thought towards the dagger. “I am Prince Brock Rumlow, and I shall soon be king-”

In a swift flurry of movement, the woman had him pinned down to the dirt with the dagger against his neck and a long sword over his heart. She looked up, her eyes catching on you. “Get behind me.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s a witch!” Brock protested.

She pressed the dagger harder into his neck, a bead of red pooling at the sharp tip of the blade. “Get behind me if you want to live.”

You did as told. Standing behind the woman you could hardly see her hair, covered by a black cloak that embraced her petite build. You heard your fiancé groan and you shut your eyes tight, unable to watch anymore. There were sounds of a scuffle, grunting and groaning before a loud thud.

Silence. Then, the sheathing of a blade. You timidly opened one eye.

And saw Brock dead before you.

Before you could even think to scream, the woman placed a hand over your mouth. “Don’t.” She studied you, making sure you wouldn’t try anything before removing her hand. “He’s not dead, just unconscious. We need to run. Now.”

“What?” You breathed out, overwhelmed with what had just occurred.

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you want to live?”

You nodded.

“Then run.”

So you ran. You ran alongside the woman who had somehow saved your life and ended it all in one moment. You were free, but you would be hunted down if Brock remembered what happened when he awoke. You would spend your entire life running from your death whilst running toward another one.

“I have a place for you to go.” The woman spoke as she ran, sounding as if she was hardly exerting herself, “Hopefully. He lives in a large house but he lives by his lonesome. It’s quite sad.”

You slowed, the woman following in your lead. “Wait, wait, please.” You rested your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath quickly. “I have to see my father.”

“You can’t.”

“But I have to!” You cried, “He’s in danger. He could be killed by the royal guard for this.”

The woman seemed to ponder this. “Alright. But then we must be going.”

You nodded, turning to head towards the village where your father resided. You slowed, lingering by the woman. “May I ask you one question?”

She nodded.

You “What is your name?”

She hesitated for one moment before mumbling a quiet “Natasha.”

You smiled. “(Y/N).”

* * *

“Oh, my daughter...” Your father groaned as he set a cup of tea before you. “You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?”

You giggled, taking a small ladylike sip of your tea. “I suppose.” Your smile fell as you remembered why you were here. “I can’t stay for long, father. I have someone waiting for me.” You recalled leaving Natasha lingering in a nearby tree.

He snuck a look out of the window. “Who? That blasted prince?”

“Father!” You scolded him, “You can’t say that, it’s treason!”

“Ah,” He waved a hand nonchalantly, “And who is here to listen besides you and me?”

You sighed, preparing yourself for what you had to say. “You might be in danger. Brock was- Brock and I were attacked in the woods earlier.”

“What?” Your father cried incredulously, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, father, I am fine. But-”

The front door to your father’s home slammed open, members of the royal guard flodding in. “Lady!” A soldier said in relief, “We were told a woman attacked you and Prince Brock in the Enchanted Forest!”

“...Yes, you are correct.” You hesitated, hating to lie about what had happened when you could so easily be found out. “There was a woman. She- she attacked us. I thought he was dead and I didn’t know my way back to the castle, so I ran here.”

The soldier seemed wary of your story, but notified the captain of the guard, John Walker. He turned, facing you with a look of some unidentifiable emotion. “We need to take you back to the castle, Lady. Immediately.”

You could do nothing but agree. Led out by the guard, you noticed that Natasha had disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

* * *

“Lady, you’re safe!” King Alexander cheered happily as you walked into the throne room beside Captain Walker. “I am glad to see you are unharmed.”

“Many thanks, your majesty. I am sorry for the trouble I must have caused with my absence.” Careful, practiced words slipped out your lips like honey. Though knowing the rest of your life would be like this turned the flavor sour. His words were only a façade, a script to make him look better before the lords and ladies occupying the throne room.

“I was so worried about you, my fiancée.” Brock gripped your arms tightly, nearly making you squeal in pain had you not known any better. He pulled you close, your back to his chest as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Run away from me again and I will slit your throat mere hours after we are wed.”

You stilled, a chill running down your spine at his words. Your death was near, you were sure of it. If you tried to run again, if you stepped out of line just once... you would have less than a day to live.

 _Though,_ the little voice in your mind reminded, _a fate like that may be better than the one already written for you._

You almost smiled at that.

A strange gust of wind swept through the room so suddenly, startling the lords and ladies standing by. Knights drew their swords and Brock wound an arm around your waist. He wanted to be seen protecting his betrothed, though you knew it was a possessive gesture.

You felt warm breath brush over your ear again, but it was gentle this time. Calming. A voice, smooth yet raspy, whispered just loud enough for you to hear, “Well hello there, pretty doll.”


End file.
